Page 4 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

‘That’s a brave thing to do.’ Still nothing too awful so far.

Her face crumpled. ‘But then she asked to borrow the bulk of my travelling money, she said she would pay it back in five days.’ A tear rolled down her cheek, over her scrape. ‘She still hasn’t paid me back and I’m broke. And I drank too many tequilas tonight at the pub, HarryGary comped me them.’

Larrywas the son of the pub owner, Ian, and Ian would not appreciate him giving away free booze. It was Larry’s favourite way to pick up girls, but it hadn’t worked on her. He was, for a reason which he didn’t want to examine right now, extremely glad about that.

But borrowing money and not repaying it was a shitty thing to do. And bloody dangerous. The older he got, the more people sucked. And they’d sucked plenty before.

‘Where were you going tonight…what’s your name, by the way?’ He doubted she’d remember his name in the morning, but thought he’d give it a shot. ‘I’m Gus Langston.’

‘Sutton.’ Her dark eyes met his, and within them he saw fear and a certain amount of panic. His protective instincts rose, and he fought the urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. Kate always said he was a ‘fixer’, that he had a White Knight complex. At times like this, he suspected she was right. The urge to protect, to shield, was strong.

Was that what pushed Kate away? Caused her to do what she did? Who the hell knew? He’d never get an answer to his questions.

He stood up, gripped her small wrist, and hauled her up, far too easily – the woman needed to eat a few hamburgers! – to her feet.

‘So, where were you going tonight?’ Had she taken a wrong turn and found herself lost?

‘Can’t tell you.’ She shook her head and her hair, a tumble of blonde and honey, fell out of the messy bun on top of her head. She made a zipping, throw-the-key-away gesture and Gus sighed. He didn’t have much patience – almost zero late at night after a full day’s work. December was also his least favourite month of the year, one he gritted his teeth through.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He was now very cold, and he couldn’t leave her out here, not until he knew where she was headed. ‘Sutton…youneedto tell me.’

‘Can’t.’ He recognised the stubborn light in her eyes, as he saw it in Rosie, his oldest, more often than he liked. Dammit! What the fuck should he do? Dust her off and send her down the road, to God knows where? Not an option. Call the police and get them to take her in? She’d spend the night in a cell, but she’d be warm and safe for the night.

‘The thing is,’ she said, on a huge gulp, ‘being drunk and disorderly, standing on someone’s lawn after destroying their house isn’t me! I’m an occupational therapist, I have a degree! In my pack is a folder filled with letters of recommendation to show my prospective employers – I want to get a job in the UK working as an OT, did I tell you that? – how wonderful I am! And I am wonderful! I’m sensible and stable! I shouldn’t be broke, drunk, or homeless! I’m nearly twenty-nine years old, dammit!’

He lifted her hand to touch her bright hair, wanting to reassure her, but dropped it before he made contact. She looked so young, so vulnerable and his heart rolled over. Stupid bloody thing.

Get with the program, Langston!She’s drunk and maudlin, and, judging by her blue lips, on her way to freezing. He needed to get her inside where it was warm. He aimed his phone to light the path leading to his front door. ‘Come inside. No, leave your backpack, I’ll get it later.’

More shaking of her head, and she wobbled back and forth. ‘No! Someone might steal it! Everything I own is in my pack!’

A fox was more likely to piss on it than it being stolen, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He walked over to the pack and hoisted it up and over his shoulder. ‘Inside,’ he ordered her.

‘’ Kay.’ She looked at the path and swayed. She took a step, then another and stopped. ‘The world is spinning,’ she told him, her dark eyes even bigger than before. ‘I don’t like it.’

Yep, too much tequila. The wind lifted the hem of his shirt and its icy fingers danced across his bare stomach. He was tired, pissed off and he needed to change some fuses to get the lights on in his house. He didn’t have time to wait for her to stumble and weave her way to his front door.

Bending his knees, he curled his forearm under her butt and lifted her, quickly and easily, up and over his shoulder. He ignored her‘oof’and strode towards the front door, making quick work of the distance.

Sutton didn’t seem remotely fazed at being lugged around.

‘Pretty star! And that one has an angel!’ Sutton said as he passed between the potted Christmas trees. She reached out to grab the angel on top of the tree on his right, gipped it and the tree came straight out of the pot.Fuuuuccckkkk.He ran two businesses and was trying to raise twins as a single dad. He was at his limit for chaos.

Gus opened the front door and dumped Sutton, her backpack, the decorated Christmas tree, it’s lights dangling, and its soil onto the carpet in the hall.

Fun times.

ChapterTwo

‘Is she dead?’

No, but she wants to be.

A finger pulled up her eyelid, and a sharp light hit her eyeball and drilled into her brain. God.Ow.Sutton squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach roiling as spiteful gnomes played dodgeball with her brain.

Pain whistled through her, accompanied by a pushing sensation on her upper arm. She lifted her other eyelid a fraction of an inch, and frowned at the toy syringe pressing into her bicep.

‘Do we need to draw some blood?’

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